But it was in vain that he tried to banish the importunate spectre; he
never ceased to hear within himself the grating of the wheels which
he fancied had so nearly run down; he felt that he was helplessly
descending the slope of years, and the thought of the deep, black pit
that lay at the bottom of it threw him into an icy perspiration and
made his hair stand on end with horror.
When Lazare ceased going to his office, quarrels broke out at home. He
manifested excessive irritability, which flared up at the slightest
opposition. His increasing mental disorder, which he tried so carefully
to conceal, revealed itself in angry snappishness, fits of moody
sulking, and wild, mad actions. At one time he was so possessed by the
fear of fire that he removed from a third-floor flat to one on the
ground floor, in order that he might more easily escape whenever the
house should burn. A perpetual anticipation of coming evil completely
poisoned the present, and prevented him from deriving any enjoyment
from it. Every time a door was opened rather noisily he started up in
fear; and his heart throbbed violently whenever a letter was put into
his hand. He suspected everybody. His money was hidden in small sums
in all sorts of places, and he kept his simplest plans and intentions
secret. He felt embittered, too, against the world, thinking that
he was misunderstood and underrated, and that all his successive
failures were the result of a general conspiracy against him. But
ever-growing boredom dominated everything else--the _ennui_ of a man
whose mind was unhinged and to whom the incessant idea of death made
all action distasteful, so that he dragged himself idly through life
on the plea of its nothingness and worthlessness. What was the use
of troubling? The powers of science were miserably limited; it could
neither prevent nor foresee. He was possessed by the sceptical _ennui_
of his generation, not the romantic _ennui_ of Werther or René, who
regretfully wept over the old beliefs, but the _ennui_ of the new
doubters, the young scientists who worry themselves and declare that
the world is unendurable because they have not immediately found the
secret of life in their retorts.
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