Мартин Иден

Chapter 9

           Buthewasverytentative,fastidiouslyso,lettingRuthsetthepaceofsprightlinessandfancy,keepingupwithherbutneverdaringtogobeyondher. 

           Hetoldherofwhathehadbeendoing,andofhisplantowriteforalivelihoodandofgoingonwithhisstudies. Buthewasdisappointedatherlackofapproval. Shedidnotthinkmuchofhisplan. 

           "Yousee,"shesaidfrankly,"writingmustbeatrade,likeanythingelse. NotthatIknowanythingaboutit,ofcourse. Ionlybringcommonjudgmenttobear. Youcouldn’thopetobeablacksmithwithoutspendingthreeyearsatlearningthetrade—orisitfiveyears! Nowwritersaresomuchbetterpaidthanblacksmithsthattheremustbeeversomanymoremenwhowouldliketowrite,who—trytowrite." 

           "Butthen,maynotIbepeculiarlyconstitutedtowrite?" hequeried,secretlyexultingatthelanguagehehadused,hisswiftimaginationthrowingthewholesceneandatmosphereuponavastscreenalongwithathousandotherscenesfromhislife—scenesthatwereroughandraw,grossandbestial. 

           Thewholecompositevisionwasachievedwiththespeedoflight,producingnopauseintheconversation,norinterruptinghiscalmtrainofthought. Onthescreenofhisimaginationhesawhimselfandthissweetandbeautifulgirl,facingeachotherandconversingingoodEnglish,inaroomofbooksandpaintingsandtoneandculture,andallilluminatedbyabrightlightofsteadfastbrilliance; whilerangedaboutandfadingawaytotheremoteedgesofthescreenwereantitheticalscenes,eachsceneapicture,andhetheonlooker,freetolookatwilluponwhathewished. 

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