Мартин Иден

Chapter 45

           Mrs.MorsedrovebyMartinonthestreetoneday,andsmiledandnodded. Hesmiledbackandliftedhishat. Theepisodedidnotaffecthim. Amonthbeforeitmighthavedisgustedhim,ormadehimcuriousandsethimtospeculatingaboutherstateofconsciousnessatthatmoment. Butnowitwasnotprovocativeofasecondthought. Heforgotaboutitthenextmoment. HeforgotaboutitashewouldhaveforgottentheCentralBankBuildingortheCityHallafterhavingwalkedpastthem. Yethismindwaspreternaturallyactive. Histhoughtswenteveraroundandaroundinacircle. Thecentreofthatcirclewas"workperformed"; itateathisbrainlikeadeathlessmaggot. Heawoketoitinthemorning. Ittormentedhisdreamsatnight. Everyaffairoflifearoundhimthatpenetratedthroughhissensesimmediatelyrelateditselfto"workperformed." Hedrovealongthepathofrelentlesslogictotheconclusionthathewasnobody,nothing. MartEden,thehoodlum,andMartEden,thesailor,hadbeenreal,hadbeenhe; butMartinEden!thefamouswriter,didnotexist. MartinEden,thefamouswriter,wasavaporthathadariseninthemob-mindandbythemob-mindhadbeenthrustintothecorporealbeingofMartEden,thehoodlumandsailor. Butitcouldn’tfoolhim. Hewasnotthatsun-myththatthemobwasworshippingandsacrificingdinnersto. Heknewbetter. 

           Hereadthemagazinesabouthimself,andporedoverportraitsofhimselfpublishedthereinuntilhewasunabletoassociatehisidentitywiththoseportraits. 

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