The Heritage of the Kurts, Volume 2 (of 2)Bjørnson, Bjørnstjerne
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The Heritage of the Kurts, Volume 2 (of 2)
Bjørnson, Bjørnstjerne
Norwegian fiction -- Translations into English
This was too much for Tomas; he flung himself down on the piano and
cried, got up hastily, put on his hat and coat and went out, heedless
of his mother's prayers to him to stay and talk it over with her, as
they used to do in old days. He could not do it; for there was
something in his mother's behaviour towards him which wounded him. When
he had come home she had received him with the greatest admiration,
everything he said and did was right; but after the lecture she began
to doubt. This had gradually increased, until now she put a note of
interrogation to everything he said. At the first complaint from the
teachers she had taken the school from him; and she could reconcile
this with her pride in his way of ordering it, and a crooning quiet
delight over its success.
Not that her doubt was greater than a practical understanding like hers
had perhaps a right to; he did not blame her for it, but he could not
bear it.
This affair with the teachers was dreadful. He really considered them
most excellent, none more so than Karen Lote, otherwise he would never
have troubled himself about her.
There must be something at the very root of his behaviour towards
people, which was terribly astray when he could be thus utterly
misunderstood. Perhaps his own feeling of emptiness and distaste arose
from the same cause.
These ladies had raved about him. They and the senior class, and....
Was that, too, nothing but a delusion, or was it past and gone?
"Raved about him." What is that? He drove it from him with contempt,
yet once it pleased and deluded him. He had believed it would always
continue.
No, he who would have the affection of others must show affection to
them. And he could not do it--in the way that others could.
After all that was not strange. His race had perhaps exhausted its
power of winning human affection.
Was not that the natural result when generation after generation broke
down mankind's precepts of fidelity, and flung aside man's good
opinion? The race itself had been ruined, as each one weakened himself
and his offspring--ay, and others and their offspring as well.
He walked into the country to the left--the same walk that he had taken
that spring evening after he had given his lecture. He recalled to his
mind how happy had been his return from America, how he had dreamed of
giving his countrymen an example which, if they would follow it, would
shine throughout the world. What was nobler for a small country than to
centre its greatest powers on the teaching of its children, to expend
its surplus there; let the great nations waste theirs on armies!
He remembered how it then delighted him to think that in this way the
sins of his forefathers might be expiated.
Everything on earth had been thus developed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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