Chapter XLIII

           

           Lookingback,IrealisethatwhatIhavewrittenaboutCharlesStricklandmustseemveryunsatisfactory.Ihavegivenincidentsthatcametomyknowledge,buttheyremainobscurebecauseIdonotknowthereasonsthatledtothem.Thestrangest,Strickland’sdeterminationtobecomeapainter,seemstobearbitrary;andthoughitmusthavehadcausesinthecircumstancesofhislife,Iamignorantofthem.FromhisownconversationIwasabletogleannothing.IfIwerewritinganovel,ratherthannarratingsuchfactsasIknowofacuriouspersonality,Ishouldhaveinventedmuchtoaccountforthischangeofheart.IthinkIshouldhaveshownastrongvocationinboyhood,crushedbythewillofhisfatherorsacrificedtothenecessityofearningaliving;Ishouldhavepicturedhimimpatientoftherestraintsoflife;andinthestrugglebetweenhispassionforartandthedutiesofhisstationIcouldhavearousedsympathyforhim.Ishouldsohavemadehimamoreimposingfigure.PerhapsitwouldhavebeenpossibletoseeinhimanewPrometheus.Therewashere,maybe,theopportunityforamodernversionoftheherowhoforthegoodofmankindexposeshimselftotheagoniesofthedamned.Itisalwaysamovingsubject.

           Ontheotherhand,Imighthavefoundhismotivesintheinfluenceofthemarriedrelation.Thereareadozenwaysinwhichthismightbemanaged.

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