The Heart Line: A Drama of San FranciscoBurgess, Gelett
General
The Heart Line: A Drama of San Francisco
Burgess, Gelett
Bohemianism -- Fiction; Fortune-tellers -- Fiction; San Francisco (Calif.) -- Fiction
He, too, had somewhat changed. Before Clytie’s direct gaze he had lost
something of his power; he had been afraid of her. In this readjustment
the normal phase of courtship was restored, and, feeling his way with
her, delicately perceptive as he always was with women, he began to
notice that she would willingly resign the scepter—she would gladly be
mastered if he would but put forth his power. She was learning to be a
woman; she would be conquered anew.
He was to learn all this slowly, however; so slowly that, at every
manifestation of her inclination he had a moment’s pause for the wonder
of it, tasting the flavor of her condescension, marveling at his own
conquest. To him, as to all lovers, his sweetheart had been a woman
different from all her sex. He was now to find that she was not one
woman but two—that in her the subtly refined spirit of his vision shared
her throne with that immemorial wild creature of primal impulse who is
the essence of sex itself; who, subdued or paramount, dwells in all
women, saints and sinners alike. He had, in virtue of his victory,
merged those two warring elements in her soul into one. She had come
into her birthright, not lost it. She seemed a little frightened by the
metamorphosis, but there was a triumph of discovery, too; he reveled in
its manifestation, but he was still timorous before the new, splendid,
potent being he had invoked. There was an intoxicating excitement, now,
as he saw in her traces of every woman he had known. It was as if,
after exploring a strange land and meeting its people, he had at last
come upon the queen who combined all the national characteristics and
fused them with the unique distinction of royalty.
They had, also, as yet, a whole lovers’ language to manufacture,
metaphors to weave into their talk, words to suggest phrases, phrases to
stand for moods and emotions. But such idioms are untranslatable—they
will never bear analysis. For love is a subjective state, whose
objective manifestations are ridiculous. No one can see a kiss—it is a
state of being.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account